Elusive Gifts
by Firisu
Summary: She's been acting strange all day, and it's really getting on his nerves. If only he would bother to check the date; then it would all make sense, kind of. IchiRuki, one-shot.


**A/N: Yep, it's my first published IchigoxRukia story. I love IchiRuki to death (it's basically the only thing I read) but I can't seem to write a decent piece on it. I've tried starting one... many, many times already. But, for some reason, I have problems with writing about pairings I care most about. Does anyone else know what I mean or is it just me? Anyways, this is obviously dedicated to Ichigo's birthday. May he have a long and happy life *cough* with Rukia *cough*.**

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**Elusive Gifts**

In the life of Kurosaki Ichigo, it's when things start seeming too normal that there's reason to worry.

Today, he had spent the entire afternoon in his room, sitting at his desk and doing maths homework. Rukia had been there, too—that wasn't the odd thing though; he had long gotten used to the idea of a short-tempered soul reaper living in his closet. Back to the point: she was lying on the floor, back facing the ceiling, as she filled up her sketchbook with drawings that Ichigo deemed 'pathetic.' He even voiced his opinions aloud several times whenever he looked over his shoulder and glanced down at the girl on his bedroom floor. However, the common—thus unusual—thing was, Rukia didn't respond to his pessimistic comments. And it's not like she was ignoring him either. A few times, she mumbled something like, "Be quiet," but never raised her voice. Heck, she didn't even try to graffiti his face with the markers or throw her book at him.

It was annoying the hell out of Ichigo.

Some people might question his sanity to pass judgment on such good fortune, but he couldn't help it. "What's with you today?" he asked, turning in his chair to properly observe her strange behaviour.

Rukia looked up, raising an innocently perplexed eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Ichigo clarified, "you haven't yelled at me today, you haven't hit me today, you haven't even called me an idiot. What's wrong with you?"

She shrugged. It surprised him—_frustrated_ him even—that she didn't react violently to his blunt way of summing up her abnormal demeanour. "I don't feel like it today."

The typical furrow between Ichigo's brows deepened as he thought that over.

Rukia watched him, not letting any emotion cross her vacant features, as the confusion distorted his face. She looked down again, re-immersing herself in her sketches, and said, "You make it sound like you enjoy being physically and verbally abused. When did you become such a masochist?"

He didn't speak.

"Ichigo?" She looked up again, concern creeping its way into both her voice and her eyes.

He had turned back to his desk, seemingly very interested in his textbook all of a sudden.

"Ichigo," she repeated. "Tell me what you're thinking."

He remained silent, the only sound in the room being that of his pencil marking paper.

Rukia watched him in irritation. Here she was, trying to be nice around him for once, and what does he do? He looks at her like she's insane, then asks what's _wrong_ with her, and then _ignores_ her. What was she supposed to think?

The anger boiled inside her until she finally snapped and shed her façade of tranquillity.

She picked her sketchbook up off the floor and threw it at Ichigo's bright orange head. A smirk spread across her face as it hit its mark and fell back down once its job was done.

However, Ichigo just rubbed his head evenly and turned around to smile at her. "That's more like the Rukia I know."

She felt her face turn red—whether out of anger or embarrassment, she couldn't tell. "Huh? You really are masochistic, aren't you?"

He sighed wistfully, as if replaying the distant past in his head. "I know you so well, Rukia. That's why it makes me feel uneasy when you're not being yourself." Those thoughts provided him with such a distraction that he didn't take notice of Rukia as she slowly stood up and walked over to where he sat, closing the distance between them. "Listen, Rukia—"

His words were abruptly cut off when he felt a set of soft, tender lips press against his. It didn't last long, but it made Ichigo feel like time had stopped—just for them. It made him feel indestructible, for that one brief, shining moment.

But, too soon, too fast, she pulled away.

It took Ichigo a moment to compose himself. He stared at Rukia for what felt like an eternity as she looked back at him with a sly grin on her face.

"'What was that?'" she asked for him, seeing how he couldn't seem to formulate a coherent sentence at the moment.

He nodded, mutely demanding an answer.

She turned her head and pointed to the back wall. Ichigo followed the gesture with his eyes and his gaze fell on his calendar. Today's date—July fifteenth—was clearly circled with red marker. His eyes slowly widened with understanding.

"You see, I thought, since it's your birthday, I would give you a break from my insults and beatings for the day," she explained matter-of-factly. "But, by the looks of it, you didn't appreciate that present, so I guess the kiss will have to do." She sighed. "I thought the first gift was a pretty thoughtful idea, but I suppose you're not into that sort of—"

This time, Rukia was the one whose words were silenced as Ichigo pulled her towards him and captured her lips with his.

He made the kiss last longer than she did, moving his mouth against hers steadily in an attempt to disregard time and space completely. All he wanted was to stay in this one perfect moment forever.

But, eventually, it had to end.

They broke apart slowly, keeping their gaze on each other's eyes. It was like they had been under a spell just a second ago and now they weren't quite sure what was meant to happen. Ichigo grinned at the astonished look on Rukia's face whilst she stared back at him, at a loss as to how she should be feeling right now. He let the silence linger there for a moment longer before asking, "Why are you looking at me like that?" He was feeling slightly abashed by his actions but tried not to let it show. "It's my birthday, isn't it? Shouldn't I be able to get what I want?"

Rukia leaned in close to him so that their faces were almost touching again. "And what _do_ you want?"

He suddenly felt a little nervous at the thought of saying it out loud. Instinctively, he looked down at his hands and muttered, "I don't want you to change the way you are, but maybe a little compassion once in a while would be nice, too."

She smiled and pecked him lightly on the lips, teasing him with her touch. "I could handle that. But let's keep it our little secret, okay?" Her voice suddenly became much darker as she added, "Or you are so dead."

He looked up at her and smirked. "It's a deal."

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**A/N: Okay, I hope that was acceptable. I have been working on some one/two-shots for IchiRuki recently that may get to see the light of day. Possibly. But as far as long multi-chapter stories go, I've tried, yet I can never manage to stick with one idea for long. I like writing beginnings and endings but simply can't do middles. Maybe someday I'll manage to finish one... someday...**


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